


Dark Little Lies

by xaphrin



Category: Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017)
Genre: Damian al Ghul as Red-X AU, F/M, Rating May Change, Takes place in Jump City, WE CROSSOVER LIKE THE FOOLS WE ARE, as we know me and my track record, but includes a misplaced Damian on the wrong earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaphrin/pseuds/xaphrin
Summary: Damian al Ghul woke up from one of his many deaths to find himself stranded on an earth that was not his own. Desperate to return to his own earth, he sought to steal the Red X suit and manipulate Raven into sending him back to where he belonged. She was supposed to be nothing more than a pawn - a means to achieve his goal. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with her.
Relationships: Raven/Damian Wayne, Raven/Red X (DCU)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

Death, at least to the grandson of the Demon’s Head, would always be a temporary state. This was not the first time Damian died, and he also doubted it would be the last. Death was a job hazard when he worked for the League, but it was one he was used to. This was, however, the first time that he woke up on another earth entirely, and the first time he was faced with the realization that he might not be able to make it back home as he once had. 

His options to return home were incredibly limited. He knew he couldn’t return to Nanda Parbat on this earth. There was no telling how this earth’s Ra’s would react to seeing a grandson he didn’t know, or worse - was barely an infant. And even if Damian did find his grandfather, there was no way to promise that he  _ would _ get back to his own earth, and no promise that Ra’s wouldn’t kill him on the spot. He doubted this earth’s Ra’s would be as liberal with the Lazarus pit as his own grandfather. 

There were too many variables to make it a viable option.

Damian shoved his hands in his coat pocket, trying to protect his skin from the biting cold as it whipped through the streets. He glanced around, taking in the press of buildings and the smell of greasy fast food and grime.  _ Jump City _ . Ridiculous. On his own earth, this was an empty shell of a city, filled with broken down factories and empty warehouses. But here… it was  _ bustling, _ even  _ growing _ . Kept safe by a handful of young adults in spandex and kevlar.

_ Disgusting _ . 

He paused outside a pawn shop, looking through the window and metal cage to see the nightly news being played on an old plasma TV. A villain was thwarted again, which was such a common occurrence that it was only allowed a thirty second blurb on the news. Either the Titans team was well organized and skilled, or the villains on this earth were lacking in any real skill. Damian was beginning to assume it was a mixture of both. 

He ran his thumb along the line in his jaw and watched as the scene from the fight was replayed for the last few seconds of the story, blocking out the unnecessary commentary from the news anchor. The shaky camera focused on the brute strength and model-like beauty of Starfire, the solid if burgeoning leadership skills of Robin (who was nearly tipping into Nightwing), the charisma of Beast Boy, and the flashy tech of Cyborg. But Raven only garnered a cursory pan of the camera across her form, forgotten. 

_ Raven _ . Who could likely take down any one of her teammates before they even realized what was happening. She was underestimated often, but Damian knew better. He had fought her a few times on his earth, and was shocked by the strength inside her. She was brutal - raw magic power and sharp, surgeon-like control. He’d almost lost to her during their last battle, something he was both ashamed and proud to admit. Damian remembered looking up into her face, her eyes and hands glowing, his sword wedged against an artery in her throat. They were both gasping for breath, wounded and worn out, almost rabid with the desire to best one another. Along his side was a magic burn from her hands. With no small amount of shame, he realized that in another timeline, he might have fallen for her. Or, at the very least, bed her. 

Damian slammed a door on those thoughts, keeping his face blank as he stared at the television screen. Right now, the truth was that he  _ needed _ her. Or, more precisely, her  _ magic _ .

As far as he could tell, her magic was the only thing that would send him back to where he belonged, without the concern of finding himself  _ dead _ . She was a hero, and held herself to a higher standard of morals than most, but it didn’t mean that she would (or  _ could _ ) open up a portal back to his own earth. But something inside him told him that  _ she _ was the key that he needed to get back home, and after all these years, he knew when to trust his gut. 

But… how to convince her to trust him?  _ That _ was the problem. Damian finished watching the news report before he turned away, walking through the crowds of people pressed against him. He’d been here an entire week now, and in spite of everything he knew he  _ could _ do to get back to where he belonged, he kept coming back to her - to  _ Raven _ . She was the easiest path back to his own earth, the one he could manipulate and use. He needed her. 

He locked his jaw into place and stared ahead, letting his mind flick through scenarios and options. An old gossip rag skittered across his feet in the wind, the black-and-white photo marked with red lettering.  _ Who is Red X? _ There was always…  _ that _ option. That option would not necessarily  _ earn _ Raven’s trust, at least not without careful planning and playacting. But, if push came to shove, it would give him the tools to overpower her and force her to do what he wanted. Crude, but effective. 

Damian glared at nothing in particular and ducked down a trash-filled alley, leading to the empty flat he was using as a hideout. It had probably once been a drug den, and it reeked of sweat and sin and bad decisions, but no one bothered him there. He entered the building and made his way to the small studio apartment. His head hummed with thoughts, and he could feel  _ that _ option come back to him, whispering in his ear. 

_ Take it _ .  _ Take it. Take it. _

He could and he  _ should. _ He didn’t belong on this earth, and the only option was to use the tools he had around him - including the suit that Robin had created all those years ago, and the magical might of one sorceress. He  _ would _ get back to his own earth, and he would do absolutely anything necessary to get there. 

Damian moved to a window and stared out into the city, catching the bare edge of Titan Tower, standing like a sentinel in the bay. He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, this would be  _ easy. _

* * *

_ What a fortunate turn of events _ .

Damian’s eyes slid over Raven’s petite form as he watched her walk into the bookstore, the doorbell giving a cheery jingle as it closed. He slid back into the armchair tucked in the corner, watching as she looked around the shop, not letting her eyes rest for too long. His lips twitched in appreciation, she was making sure it was safe for her.  _ Smart. _ She wore a pair of thick leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, a knit cap hiding most of her plum hair. If you weren’t paying sharp attention, you would have no idea that she was a powerful superhero in civilian clothes. 

Raven ordered a cup of coffee and rounded a stack of books, her eyes and fingertips flicking over the binding for something to read. 

“Thriller, horror, mystery?”

She glanced up and met his stare, and Damian felt a nonsensical tugging in his chest. It was like his heart was being pulled in a hundred directions all at once, and he shivered at the thought. This was  _ not _ the Raven he had sparred with before, this was just a copy, and one he fully intended to exploit for his own gain. He took a sip of his coffee and lifted an old, battered copy of an Agatha Christie novel, trying to look as unthreatening as possible - a fellow bibliophile who just wanted to talk books. 

Her eyes flicked over his face, and Damian felt that annoying tug in his chest again. Her eyes were far too dark, and he felt like he was being drawn into them with no chance at escape. He bit the inside of his cheek, the pain bringing him back to the present. The last thing he needed was to lose himself in her. 

“I’m not sure.” Her voice was like white smoke, curling around his head and making him think things he’d rather not. She stepped forward and cocked her head, still looking at him as though she was trying to understand his place in her life. “Do I…  _ know _ you?”

“Not unless you’ve been frequenting Metropolis.” Damian kept his voice even and still, and he gave her an unassuming smile, standing up to offer his hand to her. Polite. Charming. Everything he  _ wasn’t _ . The last thing he needed was for her to start questioning what he was doing here. “Damian Smith. I just moved here.”

Raven didn’t take his hand. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted an eyebrow, watching him like a hawk trying to decide to dive. “And your first thought was to search out the local bookstore?”

“I had to leave my Agatha Christie books behind.” He shrugged, pushing down another bubble of pride. She didn’t trust him, and while he was annoyed, he was also impressed. She  _ was _ quite clever, and knew better than to trust him. “They didn’t fit in my luggage. I can’t find the same copies, but… it’s nice to know I can still find them.” He gave her another small smile. “Anything tempting you on that shelf?”

Damian watched as Raven took a half-step forward to him, as if curious and intrigued, but not sure how to explain it. He shifted his posture, stooped a little, fidgeted with the hem on his jacket - everything that would make him look weak and approachable. Someone she wouldn’t consider a threat. Her eyes kept searching his face, and as she moved closer, he caught the faint scent of her perfume of woods and rain. His mouth suddenly watered, and for a half second he thought he might want to bury his face into her neck, breathing her in. 

He bit the inside of his cheek again and gave another weak smile. “I might be a little biased though. I’m always partial to a good mystery.” 

The barista behind the counter called out her name, and Raven jumped, turning to look at the barista. He sat back down in the armchair, opening the book to a random page in the middle and pretended to read. Instead, he watched as she picked up her coffee from the counter, then turned around and stared at him. A second passed. Then two.

“What  _ kind _ of mystery?” 

Damian pretended to be startled, and he looked up into her face, blinking as if surprised. In the back of his mind, he smirked. 

_ Game _ .

“You said you like mysteries.” Raven sat in the armchair next to him, pitching forward as if to have a private conversation. “What kind?”

_ Set. _

“All kinds.” Damian closed his book and turned his body towards her, giving Raven his undivided attention. She seemed intrigued by that, her eyes flicking over his body language and reading him with a small smile.  _ Perfect _ . She was falling deeper and deeper into his web. He pitched forward, pretending to be excited. “But I have to say, Agatha Christie is my favorite. Hercule Poirot always knows how to find the murderer.”

There was a long pause, and Raven took a sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving his face. Finally, she spoke. “Tell me about him.”

Damian grinned. 

_ Match. _


	2. Chapter 2

Raven felt…  _ giddy _ , and it was an odd sensation. 

Even in the brightest moments of her time with Malchior or other potential romantic partners, she didn’t feel like  _ this _ \- like someone had wrapped her heart in pure warmth and they were cradling it close to their own heart. It felt weird, but… in a good way. Like it was the start of something more exciting. Something more tangible than a far-off idea of a relationship. Raven had never put much stock in needing someone to be romantic with, but… Damian seemed to challenge that idea. Her stomach tightened into knots before fluttering expectantly, as if it already knew her thoughts before she even thought about them. It felt like the first time she fell out of flight, seeing the ground rush up to her, but somehow she knew she would catch herself. 

It was  _ a rush _ .

“No fair, Cy!”

“Blue shells, BB. I keep them for a  _ reason. _ ” 

_ Damnit _ . They were home. Of course they were. That fluttery feeling in her stomach turned into a heavy stone and she glared at the small opening in the living room door, wondering if she could sneak through without anyone noticing her. Beast Boy might be oblivious enough to not realize that she was  _ smiling _ , but she  _ knew _ Cyborg would be up in her business in three seconds flat. He would  _ always _ be able to read her like an open book.

Quietly, she slipped through the crack and tiptoed to the kitchen.

“ _ Rae? _ ”

Her shoulders fell and she tried to wipe the smile off her face, without much luck. Whatever Damian had done to her, it felt permanent. Turning to look at Cyborg as he stood up from the sofa, Raven molded her expression into what she hoped was a calm mask, feeling his eyes flicking over her. There was a pause as he searched her eyes for a fraction of a moment, and then his eyebrows knitted together. 

He knew. Her stomach tightened again, and Raven pulled her cap down over her head. She inched towards the kitchen again, determined to grab a snack and escape before he thought to ask her any questions. 

“So…” Cyborg paused the game he’d been playing with Beast Boy, standing up from the sofa and walking over to her. “I take it the trip to the bookstore went well.”

“Mm.” Raven flicked on the electric kettle and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t, or why it matters.”

“Well, for one thing…” Cyborg leaned against the kitchen island, watching her like a hawk as he chose his words with pin-point precision. “…you look  _ happy _ .” 

At the sound of “happy” being used to describe Raven, Beast Boy jerked, and whipped around to look at her. His eyes wide and he blinked. “ _ Dude. _ You are  _ smiling _ .” He shot up from the sofa and walked over to her, darting around her as if he was trying to perform some ridiculous examination. “I mean…  _ really _ smiling.” 

Her face fell and Raven glanced at the electric kettle, willing it to heat the water faster. Desperate to avoid the inevitable and awkward conversation, she started hunting through the cabinets for a clean mug. “I have emotions, you know.”

“ _ I’ve _ never seen them.” Beast Boy perched on a stool next to the counter and stared. “You’re always so grumpy and  _ serious _ .” He gave a terrible pantomime of a frown and squinted, like he was trying to see her through shadows. “Darkness and despair and all that.”

A muscle ticked in her jaw, and Raven grabbed a travel mug with a broken top, annoyed. “After five years of living together, you somehow  _ still _ think I  _ don’t _ have emotions. I’m so glad our friendship means so much to you, Gar.”

Cyborg gave him a sharp side-eyed stare. “Dude.” 

“Sorry. Sorry.” Beast Boy put his hands out in front of himself, having the decency to look at least  _ a little _ sheepish. “It’s just… the last time I saw a genuine smile from you, I’m pretty sure we were saving the world from your dad. So… forgive me if I think this is a little weird.” 

“So… who’d you meet?”

Raven’s spine stiffened at Cyborg’s question, and she turned back around, staring intently at the electric kettle. If she didn’t look at him, he wouldn’t know he was right. 

“It’s  _ Raven _ , Cy.” Beast Boy laughed as if he’d told a very funny joke. “She didn’t meet anyone. She scared them away. She  _ always  _ scares them away.” 

When Raven didn’t address Beast Boy’s teasing, Cyborg clicked his tongue. He leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the countertop. “Oh, you  _ definitely _ met someone.” His lips quirked to the side, as if he knew  _ exactly _ how to pull the information out of her. “So… tell me about them.” 

“I didn’t meet anyone.” She almost sighed in relief at how calm her voice sounded, and she pulled open a cabinet to peek through her stash of tea, looking for something to brew. She needed to avoid looking at either one of them, or she was going to give something away. “It was a very normal trip to the bookshop. I ordered coffee. I read. I came home. Like I do every Saturday afternoon.”

“Like  _ every _ Saturday afternoon?” Cyborg obviously didn’t buy her explanation, and that made her nervous. He was too damn perceptive. He looked at the clock on the wall, and his head tilted to the side, sorting through facts in his head. “You came home an hour later than usual and…”

Raven watched in horror as he opened a paper bag she’d left on the counter. 

“...and you bought an  _ Agatha Christie _ novel?” He gave an overly dramatic gasp, and pulled it out as if displaying evidence for a courtroom. Tapping the spine on the counter, Cyborg clicked his tongue like a mother hen, watching her with his sharp, knowing stare. “ _ Raven. _ ”

Beast Boy thankfully looked oblivious, and his eyes flicked between the two of them, unimpressed with Cyborg’s astute deduction. He shrugged. “So what? She bought a book. She  _ always _ buys books.”

“Not like this she doesn’t.” Cyborg put the book back in the bag and gave her a genuine smile, his teasing expression softening as he watched her. “So… tell me about them. I mean, you must have liked them if they talked you into reading an Agatha Christie novel.” 

Raven felt heat crawl up her neck and stain her cheeks. She could feel her heart start to skip beats as she thought about Damian’s vibrant green eyes and serious slash of a mouth. He spoke clearly, eloquently, and yet there was something calming about him - like she’d met him in another lifetime and he’d somehow found his way back into her world. Raven glanced away, her breath catching in her throat as she desperately tried to think of something she could  _ possibly _ say that would get Cyborg to leave her alone. 

“Oh…  _ oh _ …” The note in his voice told her that he could see  _ everything _ on her face. 

She had never been so grateful to hear the electric kettle hiss at her, and Raven turned around to fill the travel mug with water. She stood there and stared at the tea bag floating in her cup, trying to calm her heart before she embarrassed herself even further. 

“Ugh,  _ man _ . It’s so frustrating when you two have these  _ moments _ .” Beast Boy groaned and slinked off the counter stool, making his way back to the sofa. “When you’re done with your touchy-feely moment, I’ll be waiting to kick your ass in Mario Kart, Cy.”

Raven took a steadying breath and turned back around, glancing at Cyborg from under her lashes, waiting for him to speak. Part of her  _ wanted _ to talk to him about this, because  _ he _ was level-headed. Starfire would be overly excited, demanding to know everything about Damian. Beast Boy would make jokes, or treat it like some kind of real-life soap opera. And Robin would be mostly nonchalant about it, but not invested enough to actually talk to. Although, he would still wonder if it would affect Raven’s performance on the team. But Cyborg… he would always be calm about these kinds of things, and she appreciated his logic and level-headedness in this. He made her feel like she wasn’t losing her mind over a  _ boy _ . 

He pressed his lips together and nodded slowly, obviously taking time to read her. “So… it’s like  _ that? _ ” 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly, uncertain about her own feelings. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip and she looked back into her mug. “But… I’d like to see if maybe it  _ could _ .” 

Cyborg smiled. “Do you need me to run a background check on him? Because I’ll do it.” 

Raven shook her head, giving him a flat stare. “I’d like to do this  _ normally _ , if you don’t mind.”

He laughed, the sound warm, filling up the space between them. “Okay. Okay.  _ Normal _ .” His head cocked to the side. “I don’t think any one of us has the opportunity to be  _ normal _ , but if that’s what you want to strive for, then I will try my best to let you… be  _ normal _ .” 

Raven opened her mouth to reply, but the blaring sound of an alarm cut off her response, and she felt a sigh well up into her chest. Right.  _ Normal _ . At no point would her life  _ ever _ be normal. Cyborg gave her a sympathetic look, and they both disappeared out the door to face whatever today’s crisis was. 


	3. Chapter 3

Damian jerked out of his own mind as he heard his burner phone buzz with an incoming text message. Shaking his head free from his thoughts, he looked down into the screen and saw Raven’s name pop up before disappearing.  _ Oh? _ His lips tugged at the edges of his mouth and something inside him flashed with an emotion he didn’t quite understand before disappearing. He ignored it. Emotions of any kind were a liability he could not afford. 

Taking a deep breath, he lifted an eyebrow and tapped his fingers against his thigh, thinking. It had been nearly a week since he saw her last, and he knew he was trying to play the long game with her. If he had captured and forced her to do what he wanted, it would have blown up in his face - literally. Raven needed to be guided -  _ coerced _ , almost - into doing what he wanted. It would keep his head firmly on his shoulders and her easily pliable to his needs. So, he would create that sense of security just to keep her close. 

_ Damian Smith _ was an unassuming data analyst who liked to spend his nights at home alone and read Agatha Christie. Someone easy for her to get to know, and easier to drop her guard around. He was a constructed personality, meant to hit every need and desire Raven had, and pull her deeper and deeper into his web. 

And she was already falling for it. 

_ Hercule Poirot is a pompous asshole.  _

He couldn’t stop the smile from pulling at his lips, and he leaned back into his sofa, typing back a message to her.  _ Is that so? How do you mean? _

_ How can you read this? How can you enjoy it?  _

Damian could practically  _ hear _ the annoyance in her voice. He slid his tongue along his lower lip and responded.  _ Easy. But clearly you’re not as intrigued as I am. Would you like to discuss it in person?  _

There was a long pause, but Damian waited for her response. 

_ Yes. _

He smirked and typed back to her.  _ Coffee shop? Ten minutes? _

_ See you there. _

He pocketed his phone and grabbed a jacket from behind him, shrugging into it. In the past week he’d taken a few hours to carefully construct a history for himself, forging correct documents and necessary data trails to make it appear as though he had existed for all of his twenty one years here on this earth. So, Damian had given himself the means to move to a new, slightly nicer (though still unassuming) apartment, with a modest amount of income. Boring. Banal. Unexciting. Whatever made Raven think he was a simply normal, if shy, person. 

Although, he had to still be extra careful. He wouldn’t put it past any of Raven’s nosy teammates to start looking into his background, especially Cyborg. From what Damian could tell from his investigations, Cyborg was  _ particularly _ protective of her. It would do him good to keep his distance from Cyborg. 

The quick walk to the coffee shop passed in a blur, and Damian spent the time carefully planning every move of their impromptu date. When he opened the door to the coffee shop, Raven was already at the counter, ordering two drinks.  _ Hm _ . So, she remembered what he liked to drink?  _ Interesting. _ He smirked. She was already falling deeper into him without even realizing. Maybe this would be easier than he expected. He sidled up behind her and handed the cashier his credit card. 

Raven jumped and turned to face him, pursing her lips as she glared beneath her thick eyelashes. The sight almost made him smile, and Damian felt something in the vicinity of his heart  _ nearly  _ squeeze. Hm. She was kind of cute when she pouted. 

“You know,” Raven hummed. “I could have gotten that.”

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I forced someone to read a book she hated, and then let her buy my coffee?” He picked up the paper cup and placed it in her hands. “It would be rude.” 

She took a sip of her coffee and glanced away to hide the twitch in her smile. Damian noted a pale blush stain her cheeks, and he hid a smirk. Only two dates and she was already twisting herself around his fingers. 

They both settled in the plush armchairs in the corner of the shop, and Damian took a moment to watch the late afternoon light slide over her pale skin. She wore a loose, knit dress and leggings, an oversized scarf twisted around her neck and shoulders. The outfit made her appear soft and petite, and he found himself oddly curious about the sturdy, slender curves she tried to hide from the world. Raven could wear a skin-tight neoprene and kevlar bodysuit when fighting evil, but prefered to hide herself from the normal world. Interesting.

“So…” Damian started, leaning back into the chair to take a sip of his coffee. “I can see you have…  _ opinions _ .”

“Many.” Raven pulled out the worn paperback and tapped it against her knee. He could see dogeared pages and the edges of sticky notes poking out from the book. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before looking back into his face. “First of all… it wasn’t…  _ bad _ .”

“But it didn’t strike what you were looking for?” Damian tilted his head to the side and continued to watch her, keeping his expression carefully guarded. The more he got her to talk, the more he could discover what parts of her he could use for himself. 

She sighed, her shoulders dropping. “I just don’t know if I’m a  _ mystery _ person.”

“Oh?” He feigned surprise. “Why’s that?”

“I deal with them everyday.” Raven shrugged and thumbed the pages of the book before looking back at him. 

Damian pretended to be confused, as if he didn’t know what she did when she wasn’t in the bookshop. “How so?”

Raven’s lips twitched, and she glanced away. “You know who I am. I can sense your recognition when you look at my face.”

Mm. He nearly winced, but kept his face empty.  _ Empath _ . Right. He was going to have to be careful guarding his emotions around her, or she was going to figure him out far sooner than he intended. Damian tried to appear somewhat sheepish, and he took another sip of his coffee, glancing out the window to avoid eye-contact.  _ Unassuming. _ He needed to remember that he was unassuming and unthreatening. “You have a familiar face. I’m surprised more people don’t recognize you right away.”

She blinked, obviously surprised at what he said. “I… guess? I usually try to blend in a bit more. Starfire is easier to recognize. She’s practically a  _ model _ , and she doesn’t mind the attention so much. Or, at least, she handles it a bit better than me anyway.” Raven shrugged, color fanning out over her cheeks for a moment. “But, I prefer not to put myself on display.” 

“I’ve noticed.” He let the stillness hang between them for just a moment, watching her body language from the corner of his eye. 

She seemed uncertain, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to say or do next. There was a guarded jealousy over Starfire, but Raven fought against her own feelings about it. His mind raced, suddenly unsure about his next comments. If he said something about her beauty, Raven would consider it ingenuine. But, if he ignored her insecurities, then she would think he was brushing them off. He needed to tread carefully. 

Damian took another sip of coffee before he cleared his throat and met her stare. “Does it bother you that I know who you are? Or… do you prefer complete anonymity?” There was a question in between his words that he knew she could sense:  _ do you want to be someone else? _

She shifted, turning his words over before responding. “It doesn’t bother me.” Her eyes met his, and it looked like midnight lived in the irises.  _ Hell _ . He never realized how beautiful her eyes were. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “As long as it doesn’t bother you that I’m not the center of attention?”

_ Oh _ .  _ There _ was an interesting piece of history. Damian could hear a story in the tone of her voice, something she wasn’t ready to tell him yet. He felt something sharp twist in his gut at the thought that someone had ended a relationship with her because they weren’t getting the notoriety they thought they would get by dating a Titan. Whoever that idiot had been was a complete and utter fool. But, their loss was Damian’s gain. He gave a small smile, softening his eyes as he looked into her face. “I prefer it, actually. I’ve never been one for crowds and attention.” 

“Mm.” Raven took a sip of her coffee and stared out the window for a long moment, obviously turning his answer over in her head. There was a part of her that didn’t trust him yet, but she  _ wanted _ to. And that was an encouraging thought.

Damian watched her, fascinated. That errant lock of plum hair slipped from behind her ear and curled against the curve of her cheek, and he found himself wanting to brush it back. He dug his nails into his palm and shook his head, feeling ridiculous. This was  _ Raven _ . A means to an end, definitely  _ not _ someone he should find fascinating. 

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, sliding his smooth smile on his face as he leaned towards her. “So… tell me your thoughts on Agatha Christie.”

Raven looked back at him, and she smiled so genuinely that it almost hurt to look at. There was a light inside her that beamed outward, and if he wasn’t careful it would burn him before he realized it was too late. That uncomfortable tension wiggled in his chest again, but Damian ignored it. 

_ A means to an end _

That’s all she was. 

“Are you  _ sure _ you want to have this conversation?” Raven pitched forward, wrapping her hands around the paper cup. “I wouldn’t want to put down your favorite novels.”

He smirked. “I  _ hardly _ think that’s possible.” 

She just laughed. 

-

Damian found that he couldn’t look away from her when she laughed. The sound was infectious. It was a sort of soft, low rumble that trembled through the air like the beginning of a thunderstorm in late June. It wasn’t particularly bright or cheerful, but it was so honest that Damian found himself genuinely smiling back at her. He wanted to hear it again and again, which was a stupid thought. 

He was walking next to her in the park across from the bookstore, the clear, bright sun lighting up her hair in a pale, purple halo. The ground was cold, parts still laced with frost, and the last few leaves had started to fall. Something about this moment made him feel like he’d lost his footing on the ground underneath him, like the world was inverted and he was scrambling to keep some kind of purchase on it. 

“You know that your reading choices are going to be under full scrutiny now.” Raven shoved her hands in her coat pockets and turned to face him, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. “There will never be a point where I  _ don’t _ question what you are reading and why.”

“You have terrible taste in books too.” He lifted an eyebrow and glanced down at her. She was so damn  _ short _ . “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Raven pretended to be offended. “There’s nothing wrong with liking Poe.” 

“It’s not Poe I’m talking about.” He hummed and smirked at her. “Do not think I didn’t notice you lingering by the romance novels. Vampires and werewolves and ghost hunters…” He clicked his tongue and shook his head, chuckling at the almost painful blush that crept up her neck. “I don’t think  _ any _ of those covers had men with shirts on them.”

Her blush darkened and she spun to turn towards him, her hair catching the sun and flickering in a thousand shades of purple. He watched as her mouth opened, obviously looking for an explanation that she couldn’t quite find. Damian laughed and stepped up to her, invading her space with caution so she didn’t pull back. Raven stayed rooted to the spot, still hunting for some kind of swift retort. 

“Would you believe me if I said that I enjoy making fun of them?”

He snorted. “ _ No _ .”

“What about if I said there’s a series that I-”

“You don’t have to explain.” He cut her off with a hint of a smile, keeping his whole body soft to her. Damian didn’t want to frighten her because he found out her dirty little secret. “Sometimes we all need a little fantasy in our lives.” He paused and shrugged. “Even if that fantasy comes in a book with a half-naked man on the cover.” 

Raven pursed her lips and pushed herself up on her tiptoes, poking him in the chest with a finger. Magic snapped at her fingertips, and he watched her eyes turn black in warning. “This stays between you and me.  _ Got it? _ ” 

Damian couldn’t contain his laugh if he tried, and he ended up taking a half-step back, pretending to give her the ground she desperately wanted. “Of course. I wouldn’t want the world to know that you like to read about people falling in love. How  _ frightening _ would that be?”

Her nose wrinkled and she offered a one-shouldered shrug, looking nonchalant. “Maybe I read it for the sex?”

An odd flame, hot and painful, flared to life low in his belly, and Damian shifted, his thoughts suddenly racing.  _ Sex _ . That wasn’t what he expected her to say. Since he had started his research on this world’s Raven, sex had been the last thing on his mind. The last thing on  _ anyone’s _ mind, really. She seemed sexless, disinterested in it or any kind of physical touch. But, maybe he was wrong. Maybe she was  _ very _ curious about it, just selective about who she experienced it with. He couldn’t fault her for that - a myriad of other things, yes. But not that. His thoughts twisted, and he found himself wondering if maybe he should change his approach to getting her to bend to him… 

No. Not yet. He still needed to be careful and approach this with caution. Making her tumble into a bed before she was ready was a sure fire way to get her to distrust him. He would watch her first, wait until she was ready, and then  _ maybe _ he’d bring her to her knees and make her beg for more.

His thoughts were interrupted by the screech of her communicator, the annoying little tune breaking his concentration. Raven’s hand fell to her side and she sighed, fishing it out of her coat pocket. Her eyes flicked over the screen and she pocketed the communicator, glancing back into his face.

“Sorry… duty calls.” 

“No need to apologize… this  _ is _ your job, after all.” Damian gave her a small smile and curved his shoulders forward, making himself small and unassuming again. “But… I enjoyed the time we spent together this afternoon.”

“Me too.” Raven looked away and shuffled on her feet, looking for something to say. “Maybe… we can do this again sometime?”

“Friday?” Damian stepped up to her, dropping his voice low. “Dinner?”

“Oh…  _ oh. _ ” He watched as realization spread through her and color crept into her face again. She swallowed, and her jaw clenched. “Like a date?”

He shrugged, still appearing unthreatening to her. “If you want to call it that. Or it can be just friends getting dinner together and talking about shirtless men on romance novels.” He smirked. “It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to.” 

“I…” 

The air around him crackled and he could scent something metallic in the space around him. It was as if energy was gathering before a storm. Raven’s eyes closed and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The energy dissipated, and she opened her eyes slowly, meeting his stare. “A date would be… not awful?”

Damian snorted, ignoring the small wound to his ego. “You sound so sure.”

Raven squared her shoulders, and she lifted herself up on her tip-toes again. Before Damian realized what she was doing, she planted her lips squarely against his cheek in a barely-there kiss that he felt spear the pit of his stomach. He blinked and looked down at her and she rocked back on her heels. There was determination in her eyes, but a vulnerability too, and she tilted her chin towards him, her voice still soft but with an edge of finality. 

“A date would be nice.”

His eyebrows lifted for just a moment before his expression eased. He was  _ definitely _ not expecting that kind of reaction from her, but he didn’t mind. It played right into his plans. “Sure… tell me the time and place, and I’ll meet you there.” 

She nodded, but before Raven could say anything else, her communicator rang again. She sighed and her shoulders fell. “Right… villain.” 

“You should go. We don’t want your team thinking you’re lazy.” He smiled and watched as she shifted again. “I’ll text you later.” 

She gave an almost shy smile, and disappeared into a pool of shadows beneath her feet. Damian just stood there and let a smirk pull at his lips. She had no idea what he was capable of, and he was going to show her how far she had fallen. 


End file.
